by Scott Baron
It was nothing major, her reflexes were far too quick for that to have been a damaging blow, but the fact that he’d landed it at all showed just how seriously he had been taking their fight. It was a battle to the death, and neither had been holding back.
The spell did its work quickly, a slightly itchy burn flaring around the wound while the magic mended the injured flesh. A mere moment later, her arm was as good as new.
“Thank you. And now, allow me,” she said, gesturing to the bloody spot on Hozark’s tunic. In all of the excitement, he hadn’t even noticed it.
Samara made quick work of the healing spell, repairing the damage in no time.
“Much appreciated,” he said when she’d finished.
They looked at one another a long moment. With a truce in place, there was now no reason to harbor any hostile feelings or intentions. And as they both knew and trusted one another to the fullest extent, there was simply no way either would violate the agreement.
That meant they were free to apply their efforts to things other than killing one another. Like getting out.
Hozark broke the gaze first, his eyes looking up at the curved dome of rubble imprisoning them. A little smile formed on his lips. They had both cast together, the same spell emanating from each of them at the same time. And unlike so many who had tried and failed to do this sort of thing, their magic joined and amplified the spell perfectly.
A strong dome of magic was surrounding them, very much intact, and from what he could sense of the spell’s stability, it would likely remain so long after they suffocated to death.
“The air will not hold out terribly long,” he noted, dimming the illumination spell to look for any sign of light seeping in through the rubble. There was none.
“At least we shall not perish from being crushed,” she replied with a little grin.
“Then I shall look forward to suffocation, shall I?”
“You know better than that, Hozark.”
“Yes, Sam. I do.”
It was bad, yes. But the two had survived worse, and despite the years apart, this unlikely reunion left them both quite confident they would get out of this mess.
Somehow.
“If we lower our spells, the rubble atop us may very well shift and come down on our heads,” Hozark mused. “And that was a substantial building that toppled over onto our sheltering place.”
“Yes, it was. It even drove us partly underground with the impact,” Samara noted. “Quite a spectacle, indeed.”
The levity, though understated as all Ghalian humor tended to be, was a breath of fresh air for Hozark, even as their oxygen slowly ran thin. If he had to go, he thought, this would not be the worst of ways. But he had no intention of that happening.
He also wished to take this opportunity to get some clarity, now that they were talking rather than fighting.
“So, do you think we will be able to bolster portions of this spell in a manner that would allow us to dig our way to the surface?” he asked.
“Perhaps. Digging is a sound plan,” Samara replied. “However, with the destruction lying atop us, it might make more sense to go down, rather than up.”
“The old city’s ruins?”
“Why not? They were built on top of a long time ago, but the substructures still remain.”
“You have done your homework on the history of Sooval’s inhabitants,” he noted.
“I am not one to enter into a hostile situation unprepared,” she replied. “As you well know.”
He certainly did. In all of their years together, he had never encountered another with quite the knack for preparation as Samara. She was damn good, and it showed. But even she could not have known the Council would turn their attacks on them all without thought for those on the ground.
“Samara, why would the Council attack their own people like that?” he asked. “They opened fire on everyone on the ground, regardless of affiliation.”
Samara sighed. “Ultimately, we are all disposable to them in the pursuit of their goals,” she replied. “Yes, some of us may have more value to them than others, but to the Council, only their own have any real worth.”
“A rather mercenary attitude,” Hozark said as he scanned the rubble at their feet for a possible way down, if the route up was impassible.
“Well, we do know a thing or two about those,” Samara replied.
“So often the fodder, as you said. But tell me, Sam, help me understand. If you are expendable to this degree, why do you work for Maktan, then? And Ravik? And the others?”
“Let it go, Hozark. Just let it go.”
He could tell by the look in her eye that this particular part of their conversation was over. The truce, it seemed, might become tenuous if he were to push any harder. Realizing this, he shifted tack.
“I am glad to see you are well, Sam,” he finally said with an amused little grin.
It was a funny thing to say, given they had been trying to kill one another just minutes before. Now that they weren’t fighting, he was finally able to take a good, long look at her. It had been ten years since she had faked her death, but she hadn’t seemed to age a bit. At least not to his eyes.
Of course, he did note the finest of lines that had begun to form on the face he knew so well, but they were inconsequential in his mind.
“I am glad you are well too, Hozark,” she replied as she also scanned the rubble for possible weak points that might lead to an egress. “That is quite a crew you are flying with these days. How did you wind up with them? And who is the young Ghalian? She is quite talented, and undoubtedly a great asset to the order.”
He thought on it a moment then decided to answer. She had seen all of his associates in action already, and more than once at that. Samara would gain no tactical advantage from his reply.
“The Ghalian you speak of is Demelza. She has been something of a surprise, really. An above-average member of the order, no doubt, but one who has blossomed in recent months.”
“Quite a skilled swordswoman as well.”
“You inspired her,” Hozark replied. “She redoubled her training after your first encounter. She trained until she nearly dropped from exhaustion, in fact.”
“All to better fight me?”
“Indeed.”
“I like her even more now. And the pilot?”
“Uzabud. A good man who has been flying smuggling operations for some time. In recent years he also flies for me on occasion.”
“A former pirate, I take it? His fighting style was familiar in that regard.”
“Yes, he is. Good eye. You know, you were always quite perceptive.”
“Thank you.”
“Of course. Now, rounding out the crew are Laskar, our copilot and navigator, and Happizano, the boy you have kidnapped more than once.”
“Again, not my design.”
“Of course not,” he replied unconvincingly. “In any case, Laskar is a minor power user in his own regard but an enormous pain in more than one unspeakable part on a regular basis.”
“Stubborn?”
“Like you wouldn’t believe. And an ego the size of a small moon.”
“I know a few like that. Sounds like a pleasant traveling companion indeed. And what of the boy?” she asked. “I saw you defending him. You even seemed concerned for him. Most unlike you.”
Hozark seemed to swell ever so slightly with pride. “Happizano Jinnik. The son of the visla your employer has kidnapped. He is a handful. A little over ten years old and full of fire. But he has come into his own in recent weeks, and with a little direction, he is becoming quite an impressive young man.”
“Are you actually growing fond of a child? You always hated them.”
“Times change, I suppose.”
“That they do,” Samara said, a curious little look flashing across her face. “And what of the little one? The feisty creature? She seems to have quite a bit of potential herself.”
“Henni was a stray we happened to pi
ck up while tracing Master Prombatz’s assailants. He is better now, by the way, though his student is permanently maimed.”
“Yes, I heard. I am truly sorry for that, Hozark. You know I would never be a party to such acts.”
“I assumed as much,” he replied. “But I will tell you this: I will get Henni back. Her kidnapping will not stand.”
Samara smiled. “I know you shall try,” she said. “Honestly, I would not be surprised if all the stone and sand and bleached bones in the galaxy couldn’t keep you away.”
A section of cracked floor suddenly shifted at her feet as she probed for weak points. Samara lifted the piece free, revealing a small, but passable, space that appeared to descend to a large and surprisingly intact cavern below.
“But that is a discussion for another time,” she said, casting an illumination spell in the newly revealed chamber. “Come. Let us see where this leads, shall we?”
Chapter Thirty-Three
The remains of the old city lying beneath the new one was not as sprawling and cavernous an expanse such as one might expect to find on a massively developed world where space was at a premium. In those places, older structures were often left intact below the surface as the new ones stretched skyward.
On Sooval, however, it was a different story. The township was small, the planet rather quiet, and available land plentiful. Excavation was typically kept shallow as the naturally occurring caves that dotted the area were not exactly a friendly habitat for people. The earliest settlers had learned that the hard way. Nowadays, however, the creatures that lived in the caverns kept to themselves.
So long as they remained undisturbed, that is.
As a result, while the older substructures in the center of inhabited areas might have occasionally been built on top of rather than excavated and replaced, most new structures were simply constructed on fresh ground where the depth of their underground chambers could be more precisely gauged.
Fortunately for the trapped Ghalian, the particular building in which they had taken shelter was one that happened to possess a subterranean footprint, though it was quite small. As it had proximity to the newer towers, one of which had tumbled directly atop them, that meant the likelihood of finding a connecting passageway was decent.
The chamber into which they had descended was not particularly spacious to begin with, and with the destruction above, much had collapsed, rendering the entire place a maze of debris and fallen stonework.
“I do not sense a breeze,” Hozark commented as he and Samara crawled through the rubble beneath the chamber in which they’d been sheltering. “I believe, while we are in a slightly better situation than prior, we are still cut off from above.”
“The air is definitely stagnant,” she replied. “I think we shall have some way to travel upward before we might encounter a gap in the rubble large enough to permit airflow.” Samara scanned the ruined chamber they found themselves in once more. “I believe of the available openings, this would provide the best opportunity,” she said, moving closer to the smaller of the gaps in the rubble.
Most would have immediately headed into the largest and easiest to pass. But Hozark trusted her knack for survival, and if Samara said this was the best chance to get out, it almost certainly was. And besides, just because a passageway was larger did not in any way guarantee it would lead anywhere useful.
Being the leaner of the pair, Samara took point, crawling into the opening first. It was a vulnerable position, being on her hands and knees as she moved ahead, but between the illumination spell traveling ahead of her and the sheer quantity of deadly abilities she possessed, she was about as prepared as any could be.
She pushed aside a bit of debris blocking the way, then exited the passage after ten meters, standing to nearly her full height in what appeared to be an old food storage cellar that had clearly been abandoned some time ago. Hozark crawled out behind her and surveyed the chamber.
Its low ceiling had buckled, but the thick walls and columns had managed to keep it intact. They would have to duck, but the doorway at the far side appeared reachable.
The floor beneath them was another matter altogether. Sections had fallen away into a dark void so deep the illumination spell could not touch bottom. This building had been carefully constructed, the lowest level stopping well above the caverns below. But the sheer force of the destruction above drove the whole structure down, cracking through to the underground caverns.
Samara and Hozark nimbly avoided the gap, levering off of one another for support, using each other’s body as a counterweight to safely clear the opening. Feet were anchored against the walls and support columns as the pair slid into their familiar rhythm. It seemed their old ways returned as if it was just yesterday they had parted rather than ten years earlier.
But it had been a decade. And Samara had faked her own demise and left Hozark and that life behind without a word of explanation. It had troubled him since the first moment he’d learned she was still alive. But that was not open for discussion. Not now at least.
In any case, for now they had to focus all of their attention on overcoming the obstacle at their feet. Repositioning as needed in unison, their movements were as precise and fluid as a pair of dancers as they made their way safely across to the far doorway. But instead of garnering applause at the end of the performance, this successful ballet above the precipice had allowed them to continue breathing.
“A bit reminiscent of Master Ditzal’s obstacle courses, wouldn’t you agree?” Hozark joked as they moved on toward the next chamber.
Even in the dim light, a little grin could be seen tugging at the corners of Samara’s lips. “Similar, I suppose, but without the magical bombardments he was so fond of,” she replied.
“He was always one for making it interesting.”
“Yes, he was.”
The pair moved through the next chamber with speed, each of them taking a side, surveying the space for exits while also remaining alert to possible threats. They had fully embraced the routine they had once been so familiar with, and the sweep of the area was rapid for it.
The room was mostly intact, apparently shielded from the intensity of the collapse by some fluke of construction its designers had never intended for this purpose. A much finer layer of dust was found, but nothing near so heavy as on other levels. More from disuse than destruction.
“Stairs,” Hozark said when he opened a heavy door.
Samara nodded and followed as he stepped through, a pair of small blades in hand as they ascended to the next level above. While it was their own people up above, if they stumbled into a cluster of either of the armed forces, they might very possibly be forced to defend themselves against their own allies until proper identifications could be made.
It would be unfortunate, but the Ghalian had no intention of being on the losing end of any such misunderstanding. Fortunately, the level above was uninhabited. There were some newer items stored there, as well as a pair of doors at the far end.
One seemed to descend to another sub-basement area. Likely long-term storage, or even an abandoned space the likes of which they’d already passed through. The other door linked to a long corridor that connected to what must have been an adjacent building’s chambers. If that was the case, then it seemed likely that they were still somewhere in the center region of town, where many prime parcels were controlled by the same families. Hence the connecting of their properties.
It was a way for people to easily move goods or supplies from one building to the other without requiring climbing all the way to the surface to do so. And in case of emergency, it would allow an egress without any being the wiser. It was fair to say, however, that none of those involved in the design had ever envisioned a situation such as this.
“I believe this is our best option,” Samara said.
“I concur,” Hozark replied.
Without hesitation, the two stepped into the long corridor, venturing farther into the unknown labyrint
h of the city’s buried past.
Chapter Thirty-Four
“This structure appears to have avoided serious damage,” Samara noted. “At least on this lower level.”
“Indeed. Let us hope the pathways to the upper reaches were likewise spared. Or, if not, that there is at least some form of clear egress remaining. I much prefer fresh air to stale, as I am sure you do as well,” Hozark said.
Samara looked back over her shoulder. The smile on her face, though small, was genuine. The little grin curving Hozark’s lips was as well. The two had so easily fallen back into that place of casual comfort with one another, it was as if no time had passed at all.
They quietly passed into the adjacent building, walking in silence as they listened to the eerie sounds of debris settling above them. Whatever the condition of the subterranean corridor at the moment, it seemed quite possible it might become compromised at any time.
The pair adjusted their pace accordingly.
They made quick time through the chamber at the far end of the corridor. The doorway formerly sealing it off had been broken and lay on the ground amid tumbled crates and fallen debris. This was a somewhat damaged area, but the structure seemed sound enough for the moment.
As they carefully walked, the pair stole little glances at each other in the dim light. Once in a while, one would catch the other in the act but let it pass. Both were stoic, as was their nature, and would not openly show emotion, especially not in a situation such as this. But the feelings this unlikely partnership brought rushing back were quite mutual. And it felt like coming home.
“Samara,” Hozark finally said, breaking the silence, “I must ask you––”
A deafening roar echoed in the chamber, followed by several more. The walls shook slightly from the volume in the enclosed space, and a fine mist of dust and debris rained down from above as the damaged roof settled.
The illumination spell did not reach the darkest, farthest reaches of the chamber, and something, somethings, were moving there. The Ghalian quickly expanded the spell’s range, but they had been utilizing a lower intensity light to help preserve their night vision. Unfortunately, that only made it easier for the beasts that had apparently made their way up from the dark caverns below.
